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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26628904">you're still who you've always been</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/'>Anonymous</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>TOO | Ten Oriented Orchestra (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Night Terrors, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self projection</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 07:20:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,227</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26628904</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>" 'hoon," there's a pause which chihoon can only assume is chan taking a moment to rub the sleep out of his eyes, "what are you doing?"</p>
<p>chihoon can only answer is soft pants, eyes frantically bouncing around the room as he continues to scrub at his arms.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cho Chanhyuk | Chan &amp; Choi Chihoon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>anonymous</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>you're still who you've always been</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>sorry that this is my first fic about this lovely fic. chan and chihoon's relationship can be read as platonic or romantic. it's up for the reader's interpretation though i did really write this with the idea of it being platonic.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>chihoon isn't sure how long he's been standing here in front of the sink. he's not sure how long his fingers have desperately been pressing into his skin as he keeps them under the endlessly stream of scalding hot water. the water burns, the jagged edges of his bitten nails scrap at his skin, soft flesh is being rubbed raw. realistically he <em>knows </em>that he's clean but he can't stop. every inch of his skin just feels so filthy and he needs to to be clean, he needs to be clean now.</p>
<p>he doesn't even notice the soft padding of socked feet walking up to him.</p>
<p>"hey," the newcomer - oh, it's chan - greets. chihoon keeps scrubbing at abused skin. </p>
<p>" 'hoon," there's a pause which chihoon can only assume is chan taking a moment to rub the sleep out of his eyes, "what are you doing?"</p>
<p>chihoon can only answer is soft pants, eyes frantically bouncing around the room as he continues to scrub at his arms. </p>
<p>there's a pause, a moment of silence, a brief understanding as chan realizes what's going on. "hoon, 'm turning the sink off," chan warns, voice rough from sleep. even though he appreciates the thoughtful warning, tears still well up in his eyes as he watches him turn the faucet off. he's still not clean. he's never going to get clean at this rate. why can't he just be clean?</p>
<p>a small cry leaves chihoon as he stands with his arms held over the sink to let them drip dry. "i'm not clean though," he gripes, voice thick as he tries not to choke on his own sobs. chan hums softly as he tears off some paper towels from the roll that sits beside the sink. "i'm going to touch you, is that okay?" </p>
<p>it takes a moment for chihoon to decide if it's okay. chan...would never hurt him. chan isn't the man who haunts him in his dreams. chan's hands have always been soft and gentle with every touch. chan is clean. </p>
<p>he gives a small nod. "thank you," chan whispers as he's wipes carefully at chihoon's arms and hands. though he knows this is chan, his chan who is perpetually good in every way, the touch still makes his skin crawl. it makes him want to scrub, to wash, to scratch, to <em>tear</em>-</p>
<p>"nightmares again?"</p>
<p>chihoon sniffs wetly as he meets chan's gaze. his eyes aren't full of pity or sorrow; it's all just patience and understanding. he will forever be grateful to have someone like chan by his side. </p>
<p>"yea," he croaks, still trying to get his tears to stop, "it was...the one in the tent this time."</p>
<p>chan gives another hum but this time it's made in acknowledgment. chihoon isn't surprised though because he's told him about all of his reoccuring nightmares. he trusts chan enough to open up the heavily locked and guarded chest that he keeps all of his problems in. </p>
<p>chan knows about the nightmares of chihoon being pressed down against the thin floor of a tent, half asleep and struggling against the wandering hands that so desperately try to undress him. he knows how downright filthy it makes chihoon feels. he knows chihoon hates camping because of it.</p>
<p>chan knows about the nightmares of the locked bedroom door that chihoon's head was trapped against, mouth bruising as he choked and gagged on his own cries all while a hand petted loving at his hair. chan knows how he always feels the need to clean his mouth out anytime he even thinks about it. chan has caught him all but gagging himself on his toothbrush from endlessly minutes upon minutes of frantic brushing. </p>
<p>"hey," tentative fingers curl softly around his wrist. chihoon looks back at chan with wide eyes. he hadn't even realized he had started shaking. maybe he had been trembling this whole time. it wouldn't be the first time he hadn't noticed something like that. </p>
<p>"where's your box?"</p>
<p>said box chan is referring to is something his therapist had him make. it's a decent sized cardboard box full of comfort items that were meant to soothe him after nightmares, flashbacks, or panic attacks. he remembers being so excited to show it to the group after spending a whole session decorating it with his therapist. </p>
<p>"it's in my room," he whispers, wiping at his wet eyes with the back of his hand. the skin along his hands and arms is irritated but he really couldn't care less. "do you want it," chan asks trying to help him realize if he wants to try to pull through this with just him or with the help of something else. it takes the trembling boy a moment to make up his mind but chan doesn't rush him. </p>
<p>"can I...just wear one of your hoodies?"</p>
<p>chihoon knows he has a hoodie of his own shoved into the box. he also knows he even has a blanket in the bottom of it but sometimes it feels more calming to have someone else's. he's certain it's because the scent of chan's cologne is familiar and comforting by this point. </p>
<p>"yeah, of course. just...gimme a moment," is the only reply he gets before chan slinks off down the hall. </p>
<p>usually he would've been too scared to be left alone, would have been too worried about being left alone with his thoughts, would be too paranoid about something happening while he was by himself. but chan is back before he even knows it. it's like chihoon had only blinked and suddenly he was in front of him again.</p>
<p>"here," chan presses the soft bundle into his hands with a small smile.</p>
<p>chihoon is shaky as he pulls the materiel over his head but chan doesnt say anything, doesn't move to help him. it makes his chest feel light to know that chan doesn't think he's pitiful or that he needs help. </p>
<p>afterwards chan guides him into the living room and let's him settle however he likes along the couch.</p>
<p>chan doesn't push him over, doesn't complain that he's taking up too much space, doesn't force him to talk, doesn't make him feel like he's being a burden.</p>
<p>chihoon lets him sit beside but not touch him. just the small touches from earlier were already too much. anything else would be overwhelming. </p>
<p>they turn on the tv to play some simple, nonsense cartoons. it's just background noise and soft light to comfort chihoon really. he can't sleep without some sort of light and noise. it makes him too paranoid.</p>
<p>if the way he slumps into the couch a little further annoys chan then he doesn't say anything.</p>
<p>if he constant fidgeting is annoying then chan sure doesn't seem to mind.</p>
<p>if he works himself up into tears once again because he's too scared to go back to sleep then chan doesn't seem bothered when he hands him a few tissues. </p>
<p>if he hesitantly presses his feet against chan's thigh in an uncertain search for comfort then chan doesn't bother to move away.</p>
<p>if he falls asleep in the comfort of the fact that chan doesn't think he's filthy then that's his own buisness. </p>
<p>maybe he isn't as filthy as he thinks he is. he can figure it out later. there will always be time for him to overcome this. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>'m,, really bad about self projecting onto idols whenever i start turning to certain groups for comfort. i like taking out my problems on idols who make me feel better apparently. please forgive me for this mess. i just needed somewhere to...spit out all of my nasty feelings and need for comfort rn.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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